


there'll be peace when you are done (the Carry On remix)

by qwertynerd97 (Daffidill23)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (technically? not really), Alternate Ending, Canon Compliant, Episode: s15e20 Carry On Coda, Fix-It, Future Fic, Gen, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daffidill23/pseuds/qwertynerd97
Summary: 25 years after the battle with Chuck, Sam arrives for Thanksgiving dinner at the Bunker.
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53





	there'll be peace when you are done (the Carry On remix)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t been a part of this fandom in 7 years, and yet the Supernatural finale did the impossible - it made me write fic for this goofy show. Technically this fic counts as BOTH canon-compliant AND fix-it fic, so that’s really where I’m at emotionally right now.

“And the brothers, reunited at last, looked out over the heavenly river and contemplated eternity.”

Sam caught the last sentence of Chuck Shurley’s truly awful final novel as he walked through the bunker, and rolled his eyes. He stepped into the den just in time to see Cas fling the book through the air onto the haphazard pile of Supernatural books that had taken up permanent residence in the den decades ago. Sam loomed over the back of the couch and shook his head at Dean, who was leaning up against Cas’ shoulder.

“I’ll never understand why the two of you insist on reading that book every year; wasn’t it bad enough the first time to know how Chuck expected our story to end?”

Dean chuckled, standing up and stretching. “It’s a reminder of how far we come, of how thoroughly we rejected our destinies.”

Sam made a face, but before he could reply, Dean’s phone started ringing. Dean pulled it out of his pocket, shook his head with a smile, and answered it.

“Claire, you better not be calling me for information on a hunt the day before Thanksgiving,” he said, voice laced with indulgence as he headed out of the den, likely towards the library. 

Knowing Claire, she probably  _ was _ on a hunt the day before Thanksgiving; even at forty, she was still one of the best hunters in the nation because she rarely took a break. Dean would probably be stuck in the library for the next hour or so, tracking down whatever piece of information Claire needed. Ever since he and Cas had retired from hunting two decades back, they had become the go-to resource for hunters who needed more knowledge on a case, filling the gap that had been left by Bobby’s long-ago death. Sam walked around the couch and plopped down in an armchair across from Cas with a sigh. 

“Speaking of Thanksgiving,” Cas said, furrowing his brow, “where’s Eileen?” His fingers shaped Eileen’s sign-name as he said her name, almost subconsciously.

Sam huffed out a laugh. “She took the Plymouth to the grocery store; she realized as we were unpacking that she had forgotten the French’s Fried Onions.”

“Oh well, we certainly can’t have that. Our spouses would  _ riot _ if they had to forgo the green bean casserole for Thanksgiving.” Cas said dryly, and then both he and Sam burst into laughter.

Once they recovered, the two men set about swapping stories. It had been almost six months since the last time Sam had stopped by the bunker, and though he had kept in touch via phone calls, there were always tales that got forgotten until they were face-to-face. Sam also passed on some of the new contacts that he and Eileen had gathered during their travels, still trying to collect up the remanets of the American Men of Letters all these years later. Their latest trip had dead-ended at the Library of Congress, looking for a spell that would help them crack the warded safehouse in Maine. Although the Abiel Durbin diaries hadn’t contained any information about the spell he had used, they had allowed Sam and Eileen to meet a part-time hunter who worked with old books at the Library of Congress.

It was another hour and a half before Dean wandered back in, complaining good-naturedly about kids who don’t know when to stop. Apparently, Claire was taking on a whole pack of Chupacabra down in Puerto Rico, with only her wife as back up, and so they needed more in-depth knowledge to help level the playing field. Not long after that, Eileen arrived back at the bunker, dumping a sack that clearly contained more than just French’s Fried Onions in the adjoining kitchen. All three men shifted their conversation to ASL as she entered the den, and she sank into the armchair opposite Sam.

Seconds later, a sharp fluttering sound echoed through the den and Jack appeared, as if he had been waiting for the perfect moment to show up. (Sam wouldn’t put it past him; although the kid was almost 30 years old now, chronologically, he still had a flair for the dramatic.) Dean scootched away from Cas on the couch, and Jack settled in between his fathers.

“Finished dealing with the emergency in Heaven?” Cas asked, ruffling Jack’s hair after he stopped signing.

Jack flopped his head down against Dean’s shoulder. “Amara’s been pestering the angels again; she says that my ‘hands-off’ decision is no fun.  _ And _ she’s  _ still _ pouting about you and I bringing Castiel back from the Empty, even though it’s been  _ twenty-five _ years.” Jack’s fingers flicked out sharply in irritation.

“Well, she is Chuck’s twin,” Dean smiled. “I’m not surprised she has some of the same pettiness. And twenty-five years might be a long time for those of us who live like humans, but for the Darkness? It’s probably no time at all. Though I’m always confused that she dislikes the narrative parallel of me gripping Cas tight and raising him from perdition.” Dean met Cas’ eyes and they smiled, while Jack made soft gagging noises between them.

Sam watched as Dean and Cas continued talking with Jack, and he shared a glance with Eileen as the three of them grew absorbed in their conversation. He was so happy that Dean had managed to convince Jack that the best way to be hands-off was to live a (mostly) human life, instead of being everywhere, … and nowhere. Sure, it meant that Jack occasionally had to deal with various angels and primordial beings pestering him for guidance, but it also meant that he had Dean and Cas to support him, that he could come traveling with Sam and Eileen whenever he needed a break from his parents.

Sam basked in the comradery of his family, and considered Chuck Shurley’s novel again, before shaking his head. Nietzsche once said that  _ God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? _ , and Sam finally had an answer. God is dead, but family remains, and in the end, destiny lies in the ones you choose.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who did not watch the episode: 15x20 ends with Sam and Dean reunited in Heaven looking out over a river. The book that Dean and Cas were reading is Carver Edlund’s Carry On, a novel version of the events in 15x20. The implication is that 15x20 was just Dean and Cas reading the book and imagining the bad ending.


End file.
